Seeds of Sorrow
by Rainbow KneeHigh KeyboardSocks
Summary: Just a short story I wrote for English class. Why and how Taka became so evil. I'm not very happy with it, but I can't think of a better ending. It's my first fanfic, please be nice and review. :  Oneshot.


"Race you, Muffy!" I cried, and took off up the path, not waiting for a response. Knowing my brother, he'd accept, and win, despite my head start. I don't know why I kept challenging him, because he'd always win, but it was fun, seeing him want to play. I thought he was growing up too fast. He even started rejecting my nickname for him, claiming it wasn't regal enough.

"You're on!"

My brother and I ran up the winding path to the summit, leaving a trail of paw prints, our paws making a soft patter over the dusty ground. I stopped before I reached the top, but my brother kept going, turning to the east, towards the shadow of my father and the rising sun.

I watched him approach Father, watched him call out "Dad!" and watched Father turn to him. He smiled; the smile he only gave my brother. Muffy beamed and sat down next to him. They were talking in low voices and I couldn't hear them. Father laughed softly at something my brother said.

My brother and father did everything together. It was as if I were invisible whenever Father spoke to Muffy, even if I was beside them. I longed for the attention Father gave his firstborn. He was so terribly proud of my brother. "Look, Uru, our son's caught another mouse," or "I think his mane will look like mine when it grows in, don't you?" That was all I ever heard from him these days, anything positive, anyway. Of course, I don't need to look very far for him to yell at me. I, Taka, the second son, the sickly cub, the one that had something wrong with him. No one expected me to live past infancy, so I've heard. How disappointed they were.

"Taka!" a loud voice brought me to my senses. I glanced up at Father; he was still up there with Muffy, talking about the-stars-know-what. Probably something boring. The look he gave me told me to "stop lurking behind and join them." I held my gaze and padded over.

"...really?" Muffy's eyes were wide wide with wonder. Vaguely, I wondered what kind of lie Father had told him to get so excited. My brother could be so gullible sometimes. Now he was perched on Father's head. I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous pose, still jealous of the attention he's been getting.

"Yes," Father continued, "they are up there, watching us. So if you ever feel alone..."

Oh, was it this speech again? That the _Great Dead Guys of the Past- _

"Are they all up there, Dad?" Muffy butted in.

"Yes, son," Father paused. "Well, most of them."

As he answered my brother's stupid questions, I toyed with a pebble a few paces away. I gazed at the sky, growing lighter with every passing minute. As I looked, star flared brighter, only for a second. My eyes widened, I blinked twice, but I saw nothing there. Or maybe the sky was so light I couldn't see the star anymore; or maybe... I frowned. I stopped arguing with myself over what happened to the star and continued to glare at where it had been.

By the time we got home, I was bored and tired. In all honesty, all I wanted to do was take a long nap. All this talking about dead Kings brought new topics into play; topics that are better left unsaid. Mother tells me not to worry, but they're always at the back of my mind anyway. Topics like who will be Father's heir, the next King. Some part of me, one that I want to rip out and feed to the hyenas, knows that I will not be chosen. I should have seen it from the start. It's obvious Father favours my brother.

Officially, we are the same age, but I was born second and no one has let me forget it. I also have the unfair disadvantage of being born sickly, while Muffy was perfectly healthy.

Of course, why shouldn't they choose the healthier newborn, the one with the greater chance of living past infancy, as the heir? It makes perfect sense, logically. Although, from the perspective of the one... passed over, not chosen, it feels like Father has forgotten about me.

I sighed. No, not forgotten. To forget would mean he would have remembered in the first place. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of such thoughts, and headed towards the shade o a dead tree. Time for a nap.

"Hey, Taka! Wake up lazy!" A voice sounded uncomfortably close to me. I didn't even have to look to know it was my brother's. I grunted and turned over, only to be prodded again his large paw.

"Alright, alright, I'm up!" I exclaimed, shoving the offender away. "Seriously Muffy, why-"

"Don't call me that. I'm not a cub anymore." He interrupted.

What was he talking about? Of course, he wasn't six months old anymore, but he was a long way off from adulthood. His nickname would stay. Even so, I replied icily "What do you want then, Mufasa? Or do you just find amusement in waking me up for no reason?"

"Taka," Mufasa began, "Dad said he can't take you hunting today at dusk. The issue with the hyenas has kept him busy."

What? Too busy? But... No! He went with Mufasa yesterday, and today he promised to take me today! The hyenas aren't even that big of an issue! I was stunned about how easily he would break his promise over something that could have been resolved so easily. And now what? He's off arguing with a pack of wild dogs over something petty. Shows how much he cares for me, doesn't it?

"Why couldn't Dad have told me himself? He could take a minute out of his _kingly duties_ to tell his own son that he broke his promise!"

"Taka, I'm sure he didn't mean..."

I snarled dangerously at my brother. "Don't you say a word, Mufasa. And don't play messenger boy and defend Father." My voice was dripping with malice. "This has been going on long enough. It's about time I did something about it." I turned my back on my brother and started to walk away.

He ran in front of me, cutting me off, teeth bared.

"Is that a challenge?" He demanded.

"Maybe it is," I shot back.

What was I thinking? There was no way I could hold my own against Mufasa. He would flatten me for sure. Even so, I didn't back down. My pride wouldn't allow it. Just for good measure, I added a vicious snarl.

Bad move, I shouldn't have done that; it only provoked him further. We both stood there, under the shade of the dead tree, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Eventually, he relaxed and turned around, with the intent of going home. But my pride wasn't forgotten so easily. I growled, alerting him, another bad move, and pounced on his back, slashing, just trying to do something to hurt him. To make him feel what I've felt every time Father chose him over me. I was furious, trying to let loose all the frustration and pain I felt on Mufasa. But still it wasn't enough. He was still stronger, despite my enraged state. He threw me off and swiped at me, claws extended. I leaped up again and tried to bite his neck. We fought brutally, tearing at fur, flesh, anything within our reach.

I didn't have great stamina, and soon I began to tire. Then an idea occurred to me. When Mufasa clawed at me forearm, I fell back, feigning injury. My breathing was ragged, no acting necessary. After retreating a couple steps, I called "Brother, stop! Please, I'm sorry! I didn't mean..."

He dropped his aggressive stance at the sign of my weakness and, as if the confrontation had never taken place, rushed over to help me, murmuring that he was sorry, that this was foolish. Bloody claw marks covered my flank, with matching marks decorating Mufasa's. I let the fear I was feeling show in my eyes.

"Brother," I repeated.

He neared, not quite being as cautious as he should have been, and nuzzled my side in apology. This was my chance. I leaped up and sank my teeth down, over his mane. Mufasa cried out in pain and alarm, struggling to get me off. He flailed, and tried to grab at my head with his unsheathed claws. Suddenly, I felt a searing pain above my left eye. I couldn't see, something wet covered my face. I screamed in pain and loosened my grip. Mufasa threw me off, and with a look of half pity, half contempt, loped back to the den.

I must have fallen asleep not long after our fight. When I opened my eyes, or, one of them, the sky was dark. The stars seemed to have abandoned me.

I knew something was wrong when I returned to Pride Rock, the very air seemed to give off a feeling of concern, and anger. Cautiously, I neared the opening of the cavern. I heard low voices, one infuriated, one despairing, and another hollow.

"It can't be true," a female voice pleaded. My ears perked up slightly at my mother's voice. Uru, she'd help me... Now, if only she'd come out so I could speak to her alone. I'm sure Father wouldn't be pleased in the slightest to see me. No, I thought bitterly, he's probably disappointed that I didn't bleed out. One less thing to interrupt his royal schedule.

I heard my brother say, from inside the den, "Mom, Dad? Taka's out there." I shrank back, fearing Father's reaction. I heard Mother stirring, rushing out to greet me.

She gasped when she saw my face. "Taka? Are you alright? Oh dear, come here, it's alright, my son... Ahadi!"

I flinched involuntarily when Father appeared, with Mufasa by his side. He glared at me, and I felt my insides turn to sand.

"Taka." The word reverberated in the silent air. The whole world seemed to be holding its breath.

"What have you done?"

I looked down at my feet with my good eye, shame filling me. I couldn't speak, I didn't trust myself not to say something stupid.

"Taka," Father rumbled, "the way you have acted, it was rash; it was spiteful; it was foolish; it..." He paused. "It is not very becoming of a king."

I glanced up, faint hope glimmering in my eyes before I realized what he meant.

He might as well have said "you will never be the King, Taka."

"I..." My throat constricted.

I shook my head and fled up the rock with a look of grief. Father turned his back as soon as he saw me leave. I lingered, though, behind a large boulder, wishing that he'd call me back, and apologize for his words. It was in vain. He called to Mufasa and Mother to come back inside the den. Mother stayed put, still searching the rock for where I could be, defending me, saying it was the way of cubs to play fight. Father bit back that it wasn't the way of cubs to scar each other. He called Mufasa over to him and I heard him praise the cub for his actions.

"Well done, my son, you've proven yourself a good king and an excellent fighter." Well done? Well done? Did he see what he had done to me? My brother, my own brother! And Father was proud of what he'd done? He scarred me...

That's it. Scar. This way I'd never forget what they'd done to me. Nor would anyone else, for that matter. Not when the proof was in my name. Call me Scar, I thought to myself. Well, it has a nice ring to it. Zira might like it, at least.

It was actions like those, spanning years, decades, that were my undoing. Those actions finally forced me to confess these words to my nephew, as he stood over me with a paw pressed to my throat:

"I killed Mufasa!"


End file.
